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Updated: May 24, 2025
Rossitur's respect for his little adversary gradually increased, and finding that she had rather the best of the game he at last gave it up, just as Mr. Ringgan was asking Mr. Carleton if he was a judge of stock? Mr. Carleton saying with a smile "No, but he hoped Mr.
I have been altogether disappointed in that Didenhover." "I expect you have." "What do you suppose he'll do, Mr. Jolly? McGowan, I mean." "I expect he'll do what the law'll let him, Mr. Ringgan; I don't know what'll hinder him."
Ringgan, with a curious twist of his head and sly laughing twist of his eyes at Fleda; "you may be as good as she was, but you'll never be as good-looking." Fleda laughed, nowise displeased. "You've got her hazel eyes though," remarked Mr. Ringgan, after a minute or two, viewing his little grand-daughter with a sufficiently satisfied expression of countenance.
"Wont you come in, Sir?" said Cynthy; "maybe you'll see Mis' Plumfield." "No, certainly," replied the visitor. "Only tell me about Mr. Ringgan." "He died last night." "What was the matter with him?" "I don't know," said Cynthy in a business-like tone of voice, "I s'pose the doctor knows, but he didn't say nothing about it. He died very sudden." "Was he alone?"
The old lady took the little child in her arms, and they both sat there by the fire until the morning dawned. Patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. When Mr. Carleton knocked at the front door the next day, about two o'clock, it was opened to him by Cynthy. He asked for his late host. "Mr. Ringgan is dead." "Dead!" exclaimed the young man, much shocked; "when how?"
Ringgan "all this tract and I ought to know it, for I have hunted every mile of it for many a mile around. There used to be more game than partridges in these hills, when I was a young man; bears and wolves, and deer, and now and then a panther, to say nothing of rattlesnakes." "That last-mentioned is an irregular sort or game, is it not." said Mr. Carleton, smiling.
"I don't know about that," said he gravely. They were getting back to the old subject. Fleda made another great effort at a diversion. "Grandpa, was my father like my uncle Rossitur in any thing?" The diversion was effected. "Not he, dear!" said Mr. Ringgan. "Your father had ten times the man in him that ever your uncle was." "Why what kind of a man is uncle Rossitur, grandpa?" "Ho dear!
"I hope so," said Mrs. Douglass, "or there wont be much to eat for the minister. Did you never take notice how elegant things somehow made folks grow poor?" "I guess he'd as lieve see something a little substantial," said aunt Syra. "Well, now," said the doctor, "here is Miss Ringgan, who is unquestionably a elegant! and I am sure nobody will say that she looks poor."
Stackpole," said Constance, "I am in a morose state of mind! Miss Ringgan, this morning, received a magnificent bouquet of roses, which, in the first place, I rashly appropriated to myself; and ever since I discovered my mistake, I have been meditating the renouncing of society it has excited more bad feelings than I thought had existence in my nature." "Mr. Stackpole," said Mrs.
"I I was going to say, Miss Ringgan!" said the doctor with a most unaffected obeisance, "but a I am afraid, sir, it is a deceptive influence!" "I hope not," said Dr. Gregory smiling, one corner of his mouth for his guest and the other for his niece. "Real enough to do real execution, or I am mistaken, sir." "Upon my word, sir," said Dr.
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